


Take Deep Breaths and Count to Ten

by KaRaEa



Series: Tiny Angry Steve [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Anger Management, Fluff, Group Therapy, It's rated general but there are a couple of F bombs, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers has rage issues, Tiny Steve, despite the rage issues there is no violence in this fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-04-30 23:18:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14507640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaRaEa/pseuds/KaRaEa
Summary: Steve knew he wasn't wrong in calling himself an acquired taste. Between his physical issues and his anger issues he could be a lot to deal with, something Bucky reminded him of often with affectionate quips about angry kittens.orSteve is a tiny ball of rage and finds himself with court mandated anger management therapy, where he meets fellow group member Tony who seems more likely to exacerbate his rage issues than help with them. Good thing this story isn't actually about Steve getting over his anger issues.Though maybe sorting through some of his other issues will help with that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel it important to note that despite half the characters having anger management issues, these are never truly directed at one another and no one in it is a bad guy.
> 
> I know nothing about anger management group therapy, but given what passes for therapy scenes on TV and in movies I think I did alright. If something is off or offensive in some way please don't hesitate to let me know, it is not my intention to hurt anyone who may have these issues.
> 
> This is a little cracky and hugely fluffy and not to be taken seriously.

Steve knew he wasn't wrong in calling himself an acquired taste. Between his physical issues and his anger issues he could be a lot to deal with, something Bucky reminded him of often with affectionate quips about angry kittens. Peggy once told him the reason they didn't work out was because Steve was always itching for a fight, and she wasn't wrong. Peggy could hold her own in an argument and did so without trouble, but that didn't mean she wanted to be dragged into Steve's crusades every day, nor that she wanted to get into arguments with him whenever he got stir crazy from bed rest for whatever illness he had this time.

Angie never picked fights.

It wasn't that he was always angry or that he didn't realise he overreacted sometimes, although he usually only admitted to it when Peggy was giving him unimpressed looks over her first aid kit, it was more that he didn't know how to turn it off. Counting to ten didn't work, neither did the breathing exercises his mother always used to try to get him to use. When he got angry, he got angry. His only options were to express that anger or try to get away from its cause before he could snap. It wasn't always hitting things either. He shuddered at the thought of how much worse that would be. Usually it was just a whole lot of mouthing off, occasionally escalating when the other person (or people) had a temper of their own.

Unfortunately 'usually' isn't 'always'. 

Steve could admit that throwing the guy's phone on the floor and stomping on it because he was refused to stop talking on it through the movie was probably an overreaction. The kind of thing most people would fantasise about but not actually do. He even got some cheers for it, but he also got a court date for assault and destruction of property. Steve couldn't help but feel he wasn't the only one that overreacted. It was just a damn phone and the guy wasn't injured. This time.

When the judge ordered court mandated anger management sessions Steve could already see the expressions on his friends' faces without turning to look. Bucky would be trying to hold back a laugh, and Peggy would look resigned and not at all surprised. She'd been telling him he needed to get his head shrunk for years.

The cab ride back from the courthouse was predictably quiet, no one quite knowing what to say to comfort Steve when they all agreed with the judge.

Eventually Steve cracked. "It was just a stupid phone."

"An $800 phone," Peggy corrected. "And we all know you were lucky to get this far without a court appearance."

"I'm not a thug!" Steve snapped.

Peggy sighed.

Bucky stifled a laugh. "No one's calling you a thug. You're just a little... scrappy. Learning how not to pick fights with guys three times your size isn't a bad thing."

Steve elected not to dignify that with a response. He never got into a fight with someone who couldn't hold their own against him. In all fairness, that wasn't a whole lot of people, but he stood by his principles. And he didn't get physical with women or children, no matter how awful they were.

Peggy, as the only one of them that currently had a steady job, paid the cab driver and they headed inside. In open display of her British upbringing, Peggy immediately switched on the electric kettle she'd made them buy years ago and got out the teabags. Apparently the English way to deal with any problem is to make a cup of tea. Occasionally Peggy made coffee instead.

Steve's way to deal with his problems was usually to draw or to go punch things at the one gym in town where he didn't get stares when his enthusiastic attacks on the punch bags resulted in asthma attacks. Bucky refused to have a punch bag in to apartment in case Steve killed himself with it.

For now he grabbed a sketchpad from the sofa and flipped through to find a blank page. 

 

Anger management group was held in a run down office building and looked like a study group when Steve peered in through the glass panel in the door.

There were five men and three women. None of them looked happy to be there.

Steve felt everyone's eyes settle on him as he entered, and tried not to dwell on the amused looks most of them had at the sight of him. He knew he must look ridiculous, a tiny guy who could be knocked down by a stiff breeze here to learn to control his anger issues. He couldn't help but meet the eyes of one of the men, whose shit eating grin seemed superglued in place and whose eyes were hidden behind obnoxious red sunglasses. It was Fall in New York. No one needed sunglasses on, and definitely not indoors.

Steve took an empty plastic seat in the circle and waited for something to happen.

While waiting, he ran his eyes over the other attendees. A meek looking man in a sweater with curly dark hair and a pair of glasses perched on his soft features sat to the right of the sunglasses guy. To the left of sunglasses guy was a redheaded woman with a perfectly sculpted pontytail and a very expensive looking outfit. To her right sat another woman, this one brunette with a leather jacket and a posture that screamed 'look at me wrong and I'll cut you'. Standing by the coffee machine were a shorter guy with dirty blond hair and another redheaded woman. The two remaining men were to either side of Steve himself. On his left a tall man with an eyepatch and a glare that could kill. To his right a huge blond guy who looked far too cheerful to need any form of anger management, though he looked rather uncomfortable with the situation.

It was a massive shock to Steve when the session started and the guy with the eyepatch turned out to be their therapist. Out of everyone present, if Steve had had to put money on who might actually kill someone it would have been the eyepatch guy, who introduced himself as 'Fury', no first or last name, whichever 'Fury' wasn't, and no suffix. The irony of the name was not lost on Steve.

"Starting on my left, introduce yourselves," Fury commanded. "I would like to take this time to remind you that I am here because I have been where you have been. If you fuck with me I may well go back there, and believe me ladies and gentlemen, that is not something you want to see."

The redhead not wearing designer shoes was the first to speak. "Natasha."

"A little more detail please," Fury said, and it wasn't a request.

"Roadrage," Natasha said. "I have to attend six of these before I get my bike license back."

Fury looked ready to press her on the details, but the guy with the dirty blond hair started his own introduction before Fury could do more than open his mouth. 

"Clint. I have a dog," Clint said. "I didn't used to have a dog, then I put a guy in hospital for kicking his dog, and now I have a dog, and court mandated therapy and community service to avoid a GBH charge."

The brunette shrugged as eyes turned to her. "Pass."

"Participation is mandatory," Fury scowled.

"Jessica. I broke some shit, including someone's arm," Jessica all but snapped, arms folded tight across her chest.

"Hi, I'm Virginia," the second redhead introduced herself. "I ruptured my previous bosses' scrotum."

Sunglasses guy let out a low whistle. "I assume he had it coming?"

Virginia smiled.

Sunglasses guy shook his head. "So you're out of a job now?"

"For now," Virginia confirmed.

"I doubt I need any introductions, but I'll do it anyway. I'm Tony, I'm here for punching a reporter in the face when I was drunk," Sunglasses guy said. "It wasn't the first time and I doubt it'll be the last."

Steve didn't know whether the guy's attitude or his assumption everyone must know who he was pissed him off more. The fact the guy's face actually did ring a bell once he'd spoken was almost as bad as either.

"Hello," the guy with the curly hair and the regular glasses spoke up and then cleared his throat. "I'm Bruce. My temper gets the best of me a lot, and it's like I change into a whole other person. I want to learn how to stop."

"Hello, friends. I am Thor," the big blond guy announced. He had an accent Steve didn't recognise, and spoke with more confidence and a heck of a lot more volume than anyone else in the room. Considering Fury and Tony that was quite a feat. "I am told I must master my anger to avoid altercations with those who are inebriated."

Steve blinked. He had no idea where Thor was from, but wherever it was they must learn English from very old textbooks. He straightened as the rest of the group turned to him. "I'm Steve," he managed through a suddenly dry throat. "I pick a lot of fights, and it's affecting my life and relationships." He didn't mention the part where he had to be here by order of the court. Even though others already had, it was somehow even more embarrassing to admit than the fact his anger caused Peggy to leave him.

"Now we all know each other, lets get to the point," Fury said once it was clear Steve was finished. "You're all here because you're out of control. This group exists so you can learn to get that control back. In here you will be truthful, you will be forthright, and you will be respectful. Because if you are not then I don't sign you off, and whatever nasty little consequence you're avoiding by being here will take effect. First thing I want you all to do is name the last thing that made you angry. Natasha, go."

"Some asshole cut me up at a junction on the way here," Natasha said. 

Fury eyed her like he wasn't sure she was being honest, but whatever he decided he nodded for the next answer.

Clint shrugged. "I dunno, I was pretty pissed off when my alarm went off to remind me to come here. Does that count?"

Fury looked at Jessica.

Jessica narrowed her eyes back.

Fury raised an eyebrow.

"I kinda want to punch you right now," Jessica said.

Fury's gaze drifted on to Virgina.

"I'm not generally an angry person," Virginia began.

"I find that hard to believe," Fury argued. 

Virginia sighed as if she was humouring a small child she didn't much like. "My cab driver kept calling me 'sweetheart'."

"Tony," Fury prompted.

Tony pulled a bag of trail mix seemingly out of thin air and popped a small handful into his mouth, chewing in mock deliberation before answering. "Does existential anger at the shortsightedness of the human race count?" He grinned, still chewing.

"Explain," Fury said. 

"Well, you see, my company works in green energy," Tony began. "Pretty important stuff, I'm sure you'll agree, but my shareholders, old gents that they are, have decided weapons is still the place to be and we should still be selling people stuff to blow shit up with rather than stuff to save the planet with. It's an uphill battle, but we all have our burdens to bear."

Fury looked very much like he wanted to roll his eye. "I find it difficult to believe that's the last thing that made you angry."

Tony shrugged non-noncommittally. "It's an ongoing thing. Virginia, think you could bust some more balls for me? The pay is high and the benefits are excellent."

Virginia tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Dude, seriously? Did you just use our session to recruit staff?" Clint complained.

"I like to multitask," Tony replied.

"Bruce," Fury said, at to Steve's ear it sounded a little desperate.

Bruce shifted awkwardly as all eyes turned to him. "The gas station attendant was chatting with the guy in front of me. I just wanted to pay and get out of there."

Thor beamed as Bruce gestured him into his turn. "A man at the coffee shop this morning insulted my dear Jane. Though, as always, she defended herself admirably I must confess to an almighty urge to punch him."

Steve avoided looking at anyone as he tried to decide whether honesty was the best policy in this case. "I...um," he attempted.

"C'mon, don't be shy," Tony interrupted. "We're all mentally unstable adults here."

"Tony," Steve admitted through gritted teeth.

"That's my name," Tony agreed.

"No, I mean," Steve clenched his hands around the plastic chair seat, "I mean you. You're making me angry."

Tony looked bewildered for a split second before the shit eating grin was back full force. "I'm told I can have that affect."

Fury sighed. "Is this gonna become a problem?"

Tony raised his eyebrows and leans back in his chair, splaying out in an obnoxious pose.

Steve gritted his teeth. "No."

"Good," Fury said in a warning tone. He looked around at the group. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you that everyone gets angry. Every goddamned motherfucker on this planet wants to knock another person's teeth out on a regular basis. The difference between you and them is that they have some goddamned self restraint."

Steve resisted the urge to contradict the therapist.

Fury waited them out, seemingly expecting an argument. "Of course, it's a little bit more complicated than that," he admits at last. "Anyone here experienced the so-called 'red mist'?"

Bruce raised his hand, then looked around nervously and dropped it again. "I get out of control. It's like I can't think straight."

"At least one of you has the balls to actually share," Fury said. "Please, give us a rundown of how this happens."

 

Steve walked out of his first therapy session feeling even worse about having to attend than before. Most of the others were okay, but Fury was a little standoffish for an anger management therapist, and Tony's attitude had the exact opposite effect as the one the sessions were supposed to have.

He was waiting for Peggy to pick him up when Tony breezed by, knocking his shoulder and following it up with a completely insincere 'sorry man'.

"Why are you such an asshole?" Steve snapped, more than through with the jerk after having to spend an hour in his company.

Tony stopped and turned, that stupid smirk still on his face. "Says the guy with an actual anger management problem."

"So do you!" Steve all but yelled. "You're in the sessions too!"

"Because I'm constantly accosted by people who deliberately provoke me," Tony argued. "I don't pick fights. I finish them."

Steve snorted in disgust. "You can't even take responsibility for your own actions."

"I'm sorry, I missed what you were saying while I was saving the Earth from an energy crisis," Tony shrugged. "Oops."

"What does that even have to do with anything?" Steve was close to pulling his hair out. Or actually hitting Tony. It could go either way.

Tony's smirk turned into a glib grin. "Sweetheart, I don't just take responsibility for my own actions, I take responsibility for everyone else's too. While you're running around picking fights, I'm changing the world. Saving it, actually. What have you ever done that's worthwhile? Tell me, what exactly have you done that's so good that you got rewarded with that nice high horse you ride around on telling other people they're assholes?"

Steve ground his teeth. "Saving the world, huh? Is that before or after you sold weapons to mass murderers?"

Tony's face shut down. "Nice meeting you, Stan." He walked away to where Virginia was waiting by her car and Steve could only glare impotently at his retreating back.

 

 

The next session was worse. Tony seemed to be deliberately picking on Steve this time, even though he never spoke directly to him. Fury shot the occasional glare when things get out of hand, but mostly just let it slide.

"Tony, your turn to share," Fury said after Clint finished a tangential rant about dog walkers and Starbucks. They weren't going around in a circle today, Fury was picking them out at random and they were expected to just talk about whatever was on their minds. Steve wasn't really sure what the point was, but he hadn't been picked yet and Clint's rant took up enough time that he was hoping he wouldn't have to share today.

Tony hummed and didn't respond properly for a few moments. "So, I just want to clear up a few things about my relationship with the press. They're scum sucking leeches, which we all already know. But my personal experiences have been having sex tapes and nudes leaked without consent, being harassed while recovering from being held captive in Afghanistan for three months, and being accused of being a mass murderer for my old business partner selling weapons under the table, while simultaneously being attacked for no longer manufacturing or selling weapons. I've been called the Merchant of Death, a manwhore, a lunatic, an alcoholic and drug addict, had reporters sleep with me for a story, break into my dorm at college, try to gain access to my medical records, spy on my personal life, and deliberately provoke me. I am here for the mandated sentence only. I am not here to learn to count to ten or take deep breaths or talk about my daddy issues. My anger is perfectly under control. I just don't feel the need to control it around reporters."

"Thank you for sharing," Fury said drily. "You will, however, still be learning to count to ten and talking about your daddy issues. Steve, you're up."

Steve floundered. He had no idea what to say. In the end he blurted out, "I tried to join the military when I was twenty-one."

There was a pause of expectant silence while Steve tried to work out why he just said that and where he was going with it. Tony drummed his fingers on his arm and looked at his watch.

"I wanted to make a difference," Steve continued. "To help people. But they turned me down. Not much use for someone like me, I couldn't pass the physical."

"So why not become a nurse, or volunteer with the homeless?" Tony asked, the first words he'd spoken directly to Steve that day. "I don't know where you got the idea that shooting people is the only way to help, but come on, even you have to have realised there's other shit you could do."

Steve frowned. "I do volunteer with the homeless." 

Tony laughed. 

"Anyway," Steve said, trying to get back on track. "My size and my health have always been this... thing. This obstacle. No one takes me seriously-"

"Have you considered that that may not be your height that's causing that?" Tony interrupted. "Maybe it's your smug self-righteousness or your propensity for using violence instead of words to solve your problems."

"Tony, shut your mouth before I shut it for you. You've had your turn," Fury said.

Tony held his hands up in mock surrender. "Just sayin'."

Fury glared Tony into submission then turned back to Steve. "Please continue."

Steve cleared his throat and wilfully ignored Tony's existence. "It's just always got to me. People always go one of two ways, 'oh look he's adorable let's patronise him' or 'man, isn't he hilarious thinking he's a tough guy, let's mess with him'. If I have a problem people just brush it aside and pat me on the head, sometimes literally."

"Welcome to our world," Virginia muttered under her breath. Given the way she immediately attached herself to Tony, Steve was inclined to ignore her too.

"And then I get mad," Steve said. He tried to find a point to what he was saying, some note to end on. "If people would just treat me like a human being..."

"They do. You're just a dick so we treat you like one," Tony said.

Fury's glare was back, but this time Tony didn't back down. "Do I have to remove you from this group?" Fury asked at last.

"Please do," Tony said with a smile.

"Tony," Virginia said and put her hand on Tony's arm.

Tony rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Steve opted not to continue. He had nothing else to say anyway, especially not in front of Tony.

 

 

The next time Steve saw Tony it wasn't at group. Bucky'd dragged him to some trendy club in yet another attempt at getting him laid, and the bouncer took one look at Steve before denying entry.

Because Steve's luck was terrible, this happened just as Tony headed towards the VIP entrance.

"Hey, Steve," Tony said, taking off the sunglasses he was still wearing for some reason even though it was ten o'clock at night. "Didn't picture this as your scene." He stopped, seemingly ignoring the sudden crowd of people trying to get in close, taking pictures and a couple even asking for autographs. 

The way he looked Steve over made Steve feel a hundred times worse than the bouncer managed.

Bucky noticed Steve's unease and quit arguing with the bouncer to check what was going on. "You know this guy?"

Steve shrugged. "Kinda."

Tony blatantly checked Bucky out before turning back to Steve. "You wound me. And I thought we had such a bond." His eyes flicked to the bouncer. "Larry, it's cool. Let 'em in."

The bouncer begrudgingly let them by. Steve would have preferred that he didn't.

"It's the clothes," Tony said right by his ear when they were all inside.

"What?"

Tony waved a hand up and down Steve's body. "That's why he didn't want to let you in. It's the clothes."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" Steve asked despite himself.

"What isn't wrong with them?" Tony scoffed. "They're the wrong size, they look like something a suburban father of three would wear, and your shoes look like the bastard children of a pair of sneakers and a pair of funeral shoes."

Steve crossed his arms. "Says the guy wearing a red and gold dinner jacket and tennis shoes."

Tony shrugged with a grin. "I rock it. You look more like you got dressed out of a lost and found box."

Tony was gone before Steve could retaliate, easing into a crowd of admirers and heading for the bar. Bucky turned to Steve the second he was gone and shoved him in the shoulder. "How the hell do you know Tony Stark?"

"He's in my sessions," Steve said, though he was fairly sure he wasn't supposed to be disclosing that.

Bucky laughed. "This shit could only happen to you, man. Only you."

It was fun in the end. Needless to say, Bucky did an appalling job of being a wingman and ended up seeing Steve to a cab before leaving in another direction with a leggy brunette whose name Steve didn't catch and probably wouldn't get to hear again.

The next day Steve was woken up by Bucky's walk of shame, followed by a newspaper to the face. 

Steve sputtered and sat upright. "What the hell, Buck?"

"Check out the front page," Bucky told him.

Steve looked down at the newspaper in his hand. There was a story about Tony that Steve lacked the context to understand, and a picture of Tony outside the club the night before. Steve could be seen to the edge of the picture.

"You're famous," Bucky laughed and bit into a bagel.

"How'd they get this out so fast?" Steve asked. 

"It's noon, they've had all night and half the day," Bucky said, laughter still coating his words. "You've slept half the day away. I'm gonna have to take you out more often if it gets you living like a normal person."

Steve flipped him off and tried to get his sleep ridden brain to understand the words on the page. In the end he gave up. Tony lived a life so foreign to Steve that he couldn't even understand it by reading it from the papers. He got out of bed, not bothering to get dressed immediately for a change, instead heading to the kitchen for breakfast. Lunch? Brunch? Whatever it was when you've not eaten but it was past midday. He was halfway through peeling a grapefruit when the doorbell rang.

Bucky, as the one that was dressed of the two of them, went to answer it while Steve took his breakfast over to the wobbly little table they crammed into the one available corner of the kitchen.

"Delivery for you," Bucky saud when he came back, examining a large, oblong box in his hands.

The box looked nearly as long as Steve was tall, and he knew he hadn't ordered anything. He took it from Bucky's hands and stared in puzzlement at it for a moment before opening it. Inside was a layer of tissue that Steve threw over his shoulder impatiently while Bucky scrambled to make sure it didn't fall on the still hot stove. Beneath the tissue was a deep indigo shirt and pair of dark grey trousers.

"What is it?" Bucky peered over his shoulder. "You finally ordered some decent clothes? Jeez. Agreeing to stay out late at the club, sleeping in, not getting dressed to go on a stupid morning jog, and now this? When did the pod people arrive?"

Steve aimed a loose slap behind him and set the box down on the kitchen chair to pull out the clothes. When the trousers were removed Steve spotted a smaller box, this one containing a pair of shiny black shoes when he opened it. A nagging suspicion grew, creeping up Steve's spine. "I didn't order these."

Bucky picked up the shirt and gave a low whistle. "Yeah, I get that. This shirt feels like silk!"

It was obvious who did order them, though Steve couldn't for the life of him imagine why, or how Tony got his measurements.

"Go try 'em on," Bucky ordered, shoving the shirt at him.

"I'm not keeping them," Steve insisted. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and shoved the shirt forward again. "Whatever. Just don't pull off any labels."

Begrudgingly, Steve took the clothes and headed back into the bedroom. He dumped them on the bed with as much care as he could muster and went to get a towel for a shower. If the shirt was really silk he was not doing anything to risk messing it up before he could return it. 

His breakfast was long cold by the time he emerged wearing the new clothes, that fit disturbingly well. "There. Happy?"

Bucky scanned him with raised eyebrows. "Well, damn, Stevie. This what you've been hiding under khakis and oversized shirts all these years?"

Steve rolled his eyes. Sure, they were nice clothes but that was overdoing it more than a little. "Take a good look. They're going back in the box and back to Tony."

"Tony? Why'd Tony buy you clothes?"

"I have no idea. But I know it was him," Steve said, stroking a hand up the opposite arm. The shirt was damn soft.

"It sure is a shame you're giving them back," Bucky said, shaking his head. "I wouldn't even have to try to set this guy up."

"It's just a shirt, Buck."

"Just a shirt that doesn't make you look like a kid playing dress up in his dad's clothes," Bucky pointed out.

Steve winced. "Ouch."

Bucky made an apologetic face. "Sorry, but you know I've got a point. You should dress nicer, you look good like this. Really good."

The only full length mirror in their apartment was in the bathroom and it was all fogged up after Steve's shower. A traitorous part of him wanted to go look, see if Bucky really wasn't exaggerating. He'd never really been bothered about his looks, but it'd be a lie to deny he'd like to look more attractive. With a best friend like Bucky he was never going to get much attention, but it'd be nice to feel like he was worth a second glance.

 

 

The next session saw Steve carefully carrying the box in, clothes and tissue paper carefully reinserted, and dumping it on Tony's lap.

Tony blinked.

"I don't know what you thought you were doing, or how the hell you got my measurements and address, but it's creepy as hell and you can have these back," Steve told him.

Tony blinked again. "What?" He looked over the box, before recognition lit in his eyes. "Oh! Right. I forgot about this." He raised the lid and peered in. "I was more than a little drunk when I ordered these. And if it helps, my AI took your measurements and got your address to organise the delivery without me being involved. I don't know where you live. I mean, I could find out, but I don't currently know."

"Just... Take them back." Steve had no idea what Tony was talking about, but the gist of it being that Tony didn't know his personal details was a little reassuring. 

"What? No. I don't want them. What would I do with them?" Tony said, pushing the box back towards Steve.

Steve held his hands out of the way, refusing to take it. "Well, I don't want them either."

"Fine. Whatever. Sell them on Ebay, donate them to a shelter, I don't care," Tony said. "Please not the Salvation Army though." At Steve's crossed arms he sighed. "Look, I don't mean to brag but I am rich as hell. Buying these was the equivalent to dropping my change by accident at the bar. Taking them back would more of a pain in the ass than anything. Just... take them. Do what you want with them. Wear them, don't wear them. I don't give a shit."

Steve walked away to his seat.

Tony put the box on the floor and turned back to where he was talking about something that sounded far too complicated to be coming out of Tony's immaculately groomed face with Bruce.

"Pair up," Fury said as he entered, holding a cup of the much maligned Starbucks.

Clint and Natasha turned to each other, then Virginia and Tony, Jessica stepped across to Bruce with a bored expression and received a bashful smile in response, leaving Steve with Thor.

Thor smiled broadly and reached out to shake Steve's hand. 

Steve thought he might have a dislocated shoulder when Thor was done.

"Alright," Fury said, regaining the attention of the room. "You're going to say to your partner what you want to say to whoever pissed you off last. No holding back. Tell them exactly what you think. Verbal abuse only, please."

Steve and Thor eyed each other.

Ten minutes later Steve had been called a cur and a cad, which Steve had only ever seen written in the novels he had to read for high school English, and had told Thor he was a spoiled rich brat with no respect for anyone. They've pretty much run out of things to say. Thor genuinely didn't seem to be an angry guy and Steve couldn't bring himself to keep ranting at his friendly, open face.

"Am I right in thinking your words were directed toward Anthony?" Thor asked

Steve grimaced. 

Thor considered him a moment. "I do not know what Anthony has done to secure your dislike, but I must tell you that I would advise you talk it over with him. He is a very generous and humorous man, I am sure you can put your grievances behind you."

Thor wasn't the only member of the group to like Tony. Virginia and Bruce had hit it off with him from the first and second sessions, and the others all seem only too happy to laugh at his jokes and swap witty one liners and friendly insults. Even Jessica seemed to get on okay with him. They were all friendly towards Steve, too, but somehow their agreeableness with Tony only made Steve more annoyed with the man.

"We just don't get along, Thor," Steve said. "We're not each other's kind of people."

"That is a shame," Thor said with a sad frown. "You are both fine men, and would doubtless achieve much by each other's side."

While Steve was still trying to work out exactly what Thor was on about, Fury called an end to the exercise.

"Now that's we've all had a little catharsis, we can get back to our regular group," Fury said, gesturing them back to their seats.

 

Strangely, group seemed to be helping with Steve's anger issues. He wasn't sure how, all they seemed to do was rant about whatever had gone wrong in their day, and he and Tony were forever bickering. But the next time Steve got into a confrontation, this time with some guy who thought he could muscle Steve into paying for his groceries faster, Steve was able to keep his head and politely and firmly tell the guy to wait his turn. 

After their last session Tony had left the box of clothes lying on the floor when he left, and loathe to waste anything Steve had picked it up. It was stowed in his closet, untouched.

Until Bucky found it.

"We're going out, and you're wearing this," Bucky told him.

"Buck..."

"No," Bucky said. "Peggy and Angie are heading over as we speak, and they will be on my side in this, and you will go out wearing this."

"Why?" Steve complained. "Isn't it enough forcing me out to humiliate myself without making me play dress up first?"

"If you play dress up you won't humiliate yourself," Bucky argued.

"But why this? Why can't I wear something not gifted to me by a drunk asshole?" Steve plucked at the shirt in its position on his bed.

Bucky manhandled him into taking off the shirt he was wearing. "Buy something nice yourself and you can wear that. Until then, this is what you've got."

It used to be amusing, Bucky's relentless quest to get him a girlfriend, or at the very least laid. Now it was more annoying and humiliating than anything. The lengths Bucky was willing to go to were worrying at times.

Bucky was attempting to do something with Steve's hair when Peggy and Angie arrived. Peggy's eyebrows shot up at the sight of him. "You weren't kidding about the clothes."

Bucky grinned smugly. "Nope."

Angie smiled at them. "You look good, Rogers."

"Thanks." Steve self-consciously smoothed down the already smooth shirt and batted Bucky's hands away from his hair. 

"Here, let me," Angie said, stepping up to take over whatever it was Bucky was doing to his hair.

He actually got someone's number while they were out. Surrounded by Bucky, Peggy and Angie that was unheard of, but Steve somehow went home with a napkin with a name and number scrawled across it by a pretty girl with a shy smile and bright red lipstick.

"Told ya," Bucky said smugly as Steve pocketed the napkin.

 

 

Steve may or may not have gone straight from work to go clothes shopping that Monday. He couldn't afford anything like the clothes Tony had bought him, but he took the time to try things on properly, make sure they fitted properly, and even bought the skinny jeans the sales girl pushed on him. It was an embarrassing experience as always, finding clothes that fit him that didn't come from the kids section and enduring the smiles of the sales people who clearly thought he was adorable, but he walked home with clothes he actually thought he looked okay in.

He was wearing the skinny jeans and a Superman t-shirt at the next group session and had to grit his teeth when Tony whistled at him.

"So you have a waist after all, I was beginning to wonder," Tony said, dropping into the seat by Steve's side that Thor usually occupied.

Steve tried to ignore him, but sessions had a strict no phones rule and there was little else to give his attention to.

Tony twisted to greet Thor, who gave an easy smile and sat in the chair next Bruce without complaint. He turned back to Steve. "Seriously though, it's great to see you out of the granddad clothes. You've got a hot hipster thing going on now, it's way better."

"Hipster?" Steve asked despite himself. He had never thought of that word as coming within five miles of describing him.

"Yeah, you know. Geeky t-shirt, skinny jeans, wiry twink thing. All you need is some thick rimmed glasses and a sculpted beard and you'd be the poster boy for the hipster trend," Tony elaborated.

Steve felt his face twist up in confusion. "I can't work out if that's supposed to be a compliment or not."

"Depends how you feel about hipsters I guess," Tony replied with an out of place wink.

Virginia came back from the coffee machine and sighed at something about her phone. Fury had yet to get her to stay off it for more than fifteen minutes at a time. "Tony, stop flirting for two seconds and tell me who this guy is and if we want his investment."

Tony shot Steve a grin. "Sorry, business calls."

"So you did hire Virginia?" Steve asked, because he'd half thought they were sleeping together. Hell, maybe it was both.

"Hell yes, and I made sure the whole board knew about her history with the male anatomy. They're terrified of her, it's great," Tony said, standing to go deal with whatever it was Virginia had asked. 

When it became clear Tony was taking his usual seat after all Natasha took the one next to Steve. When Fury entered he looked genuinely surprised to see the small swap around in seating arrangements but said nothing, taking his usual chair and calling their attention to him. "So far we've concentrated on figuring out what sets you off, what the roots of your behaviour are. This time we're going to be working on actual techniques to keep control when those triggers are pushed."

 

 

Steve wasn't lying when he said he volunteered with the homeless. Twice a month he wheedled out the time to work in the local food bank, and once a week he did an hour of work doing art with the children of homeless families at an outreach center. It was the kind of thing Peggy called sickeningly wholesome with a fond smile before handing over a box of canned goods to take with him.

This week he was asked to come in to help cover an event. A major donor was doing a publicity drive to try to get funding for a careers advice and training center to attach to the outreach building where Steve did art. It was a good thing, the event was open to the public and there was going to be a science activity held for the kids that Steve was supposed to help with. Science was never really his subject, but he was assured all he was really needed for was to make sure the kids didn't hurt themselves.

He really should have remembered that the Maria Stark Foundation, the major donor for the center, was under the purview of one Tony Stark.

"Steve," Tony greeted, seeming mildly surprised. "So this is the place you volunteer."

Steve nodded tightly and continued setting out tool sets. 

"I swear I'm not stalking you," Tony told him. "This event's been planned for a couple of months, I haven't even known you that long."

Steve tried and failed to suppress the twitch of his lips. 

The kids and their families showed up an hour later, each being guided to a place ready to begin.

"Hi, guys," Tony greeted them all. 

A chorus of greetings issued in response.

"Okay, so today we're gonna make some robots. Sound cool?" Tony said. In actual fact Tony had brought in ready made units that the kids could customise with whatever limbs they wanted. He'd insisted it would take too long to do the whole thing from scratch and the kids would still get to connect the wires and power source and all other kinds of 'educational goodies'. He'd discussed it at length with the center's manager until her eyes glazed over and she politely excused herself. It was the first time Steve ever saw someone bored by Tony.

The kids were enthusiastically supportive of the idea of making robots.

Watching Tony guide the kids through how to connect things safely, how to attach the limbs and power source, what kind of personalisations they could make, and telling them stories about robots he'd made himself was a whole other experience to the one Steve had anticipated.

At one point Steve was helping a little girl with her robot and Tony came to look, congratulating the girl on her design and taking it from Steve's hands and easily fitting a part that Steve had been struggling with before handing it back. Tony's hand grazed down Steve's back as he left and Steve shivered. 

They finished in time for lunch and Steve found himself sat across from Tony to eat. He was somewhat surprised that Tony was eating with the rest of them rather than leaving to go eat at some fancy restaurant. When he said as much Tony pulled a face.

"I'm not an ogre or a Dickens villain you know," Tony said, taking another bite of mac and cheese. "Besides, there's an auction later I need to be here for."

Steve knew about the auction. It was a mishmash of things the center itself had produced and donated items of various price brackets. Steve had spent the last few weeks helping the kids in his art group make projects to be auctioned off.

Tony scraped his plate clean and drained his cup of juice. "You planning on bidding or you helping out?"

"I might bid on one or two things," Steve said. He didn't have much money to spare after his clothes shopping spree, which made him feel pretty guilty, but he was planning on at least bidding on all of the kid's paintings. He scrutinised Tony while he was eating his fruit pot. "Why are you being nice?"

Tony glanced up. "I'm always nice."

"No, you're not," Steve argued. "You're deliberately belligerent and you pick on me in group."

"Hey, I'm not the one who started it. You told me I pissed you off before I'd ever said two words to you," Tony said. "Then you called me an asshole and blamed me for Obie's double dealing."

"I..." couldn't argue with that. Steve reluctantly met Tony's eye. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said those things."

Tony just shrugged.

"You do pick on me, though," Steve said. 

"Guilty. But in fairness I was upset," Tony admitted.

"Upset?" Steve resisted the urge to laugh at the absurdity. "Over something some nobody said to you? You hear worse every day from people who actually matter."

Tony looked at him oddly. "I hear worse from people who know nothing about me beyond newspaper headlines. Not from people I have to talk about my issues in front of."

He had a point, Steve had to admit. And boy did it make him feel guilty. Group was supposed to be a safe place and he made it the opposite for Tony. Not that Tony hadn't turned around and done the same to Steve. Still. "So why be nice to me now?"

"Several reasons," Tony said. "First being that I realised I goaded you on a little bit after the comment about me making you angry. Second being it's hard to stay mad at a face that pretty. And third that Thor said you were cool and I like Thor."

"My face is too pretty to stay mad at, you're really going with that?" Steve asked doubtfully.

"What can I say, I've got a soft spot for blue eyes and square jawlines," Tony said with a wink.

"Are you..." Steve started to ask, then changed his mind. Tony was just joking around and Steve didn't need the humiliation of calling him on it. "Are you going to buy much at the auction?"

Tony raised his eyebrows at the clear subject change but went with it anyway. "Sure. Anything I like the look of."

Steve nodded and pointed his gaze back at his food.

The auction went well. Steve bought a bunch of the kid's paintings and sculptures but he wasn't the only one. Tony bought a picture of a robot and a few people in the crowd bought random pieces. Steve himself had a collection of panel art posters up for auction and they all went. Steve tried to ignore the fact that they all went to Tony, who as far as Steve was aware didn't know they were his work. They raised a surplus by the end of the day, and not only would they be getting a careers and training center, but two new computers and a printer to boot. Tony even offered to install everything for free himself so they could use the money they would have spent on installation on buying printer ink and paper. 

After it was all over Tony offered Steve a lift home.

"You don't have to do that, it's not far," Steve said.

"It's no problem. Call it an olive branch," Tony said. "Truce?"

Steve smiled. "Truce."

 

At their next group session Tony sat next to Steve and stayed there, and he didn't antagonise Steve even a little bit. Thor gave them both beaming smiles and pats on the back before they left.

"Do you want a ride?" Tony asked as they exited the building.

Steve gave him a tentative smile. "No thanks. I'm getting a lift from a friend."

Tony nodded. "Cool. Okay then. See you next week." He turned to walk backwards halfway to his car. "And remember to do your deep relaxation tonight."

Steve laughed. "Sure. I'll picture myself on a nice beach somewhere."

"As long as you picture me there with you," Tony said with a wink. He was doing a lot of those lately, and Steve had to tell himself it was weird and not oddly charming.

Peggy pulled up scant seconds late, and by the look on her face she'd clearly seen his interaction with Tony, even if she couldn't hear it.

"What?" Steve asked.

Peggy shook her head without a word.

 

 

After the success of their last outing, even if Steve had mislaid the girl's phone number, Bucky managed to talk Steve into another night out. This time he didn't even have to enlist Peggy and Angie to get Steve to dress up in the clothes Tony bought. He did, however, have issues getting Steve to do anything with his hair. Steve just wasn't one for the tousled look, he didn't think he could pull it off.

If Steve steered them back towards the club they bumped into Tony in last time, well it was a good club. Nothing wrong with that. He also wanted to see if Tony was right and the bouncer would let him in now he was dressed nicely.

He did. There wasn't even a doubtful up and down scan first.

"If he was here you'd know about it," Bucky said as he passed Steve his drink.

"Hmm?" Steve questioned.

Bucky gave him a look. "Tony Stark. I know that's why you wanted to come here."

"What? No. I like it here," Steve argued.

Bucky's look intensified.

Steve sighed. "Sure, I'm keeping my eye out just in case. But that doesn't mean he's the only reason I wanted to come here."

"Uhuh," Bucky said doubtfully. "Stevie, you'd tell me if you started liking guys, right?"

Steve spat his drink all over Bucky's sleeve.

"Easy," Bucky laughed.

It wasn't that Steve had an issue with...that. But he'd never gone out with a guy. Okay, so he'd thought about it, but everyone did at some point. It didn't mean they actually wanted to do it, right? Steve liked to think he was open minded, and it wasn't that he'd never consider it, but why was Bucky bringing it up now?

"Stevie?" Bucky asked, concerned when Steve didn't speak for awhile. 

"I'm fine," Steve reassured him. "Just, ah. Just wondering where that came from?"

Bucky watched him for a moment. "You're awful eager to run into a guy who was hanging all over you last time I saw you together."

"That's ridiculous," Steve said, because it was.

"The guy bought you nice clothes," Bucky said.

Steve looked automatically down at the silk shirt. "So?"

"So, why would he do that?" Bucky asked. "He only knows you from your group stuff, that barely merits him acknowledging your existence when running into you, let alone getting you into a club, getting right up close and personal to talk in your ear and then buying you expensive gifts."

"Tony just..." Steve didn't know how to describe the weird bubble of wealth and influence Tony lived in. Tony bought expensive gifts the way other people might by someone a drink, hooked people up with life changing opportunities because he could. Virginia wasn't the only one in group who had been on the end of Tony's networking. Steve overheard him and Bruce talking about a research position Tony swung for Bruce, and Thor's girlfriend had apparently received a large grant from Stark Industries towards her research. It wasn't anything special about Steve that made Tony throw expensive clothes at him, just Tony's impulse and ability to see a need and fulfil it. If anything, the fact he just got clothes instead of a career probably meant Tony liked him less than any of the others.

"Wants to get in your pants," Bucky finished for him.

Steve shook his head. "No. Tony dates supermodels and actresses. He just likes to give people stuff."

Bucky didn't look convinced but didn't press the issue any further, instead opting to go back to scouting out potential hook ups for them both.

Once Bucky's mission was complete and two pretty girls were stood across from them sipping drinks and laughing at Bucky's antics, Steve's mind went back to Bucky's early line of questioning. It wasn't that Steve thought Bucky was right about Tony, more that now that he thought about it Steve kind of wished he was. He told himself it was mostly for gratification. He wasn't lying about the kinds of people Tony dated, he'd seen some of them in magazine headlines just since he'd known Tony. For Steve to rate attention next to people like that... Not to mention that Tony himself was a very good looking fella. If Steve was into guys he probably would be attracted to Tony. He could imagine it quite clearly.

Steve didn't go home with a phone number this time, but he had to admit that was at least partially down to his lack of interest. He'd barely tried to talk to the girl Bucky pushed at him, and as always he didn't dance. The girl probably thought he was a total stick in the mud. It didn't bother Steve half so much as it bothered Bucky. 

"Seriously, she thought you were cute, you had it in the bag if you'd actually opened your mouth," Bucky ranted. "I thought you wanted to meet girls? Stevie, you can't get girls to like you if you don't talk to them!"

Steve patted Bucky's shoulder and helped him back into the apartment when Bucky stumbled drunkenly over the doorstep. "She wasn't my type," he lied, because maybe she was his type but he hadn't really noticed either way. 

Bucky groaned. "Do you wanna be alone forever? Do you Stevie? 'Cause you're gonna be alone forever if you don't... If you don't..." He frowned, seemingly forgetting what he was saying.

"Go to bed," Steve ordered, headed to do so himself as soon as he'd brushed the fuzz off his teeth. 

Bucky sighed and fell over onto the couch. "Just want you to be happy."

"I know, Buck, I know," Steve said, trying his best not to laugh.

 

 

The next group session Fury had them ranting at each other again. This time, in a strange reversal, Steve found himself partnered with Tony without having anything Tony related to rant about.

"I know you're trying to be a good friend, but sometimes you just make me feel like I'm hopeless. You keep trying to set me up with people who are blatantly uninterested and then you won't just let it drop," Steve ranted. "It's like an obsession with you. What's wrong with me being single? Why are you so convinced I'll be alone forever if you don't set me up? It's not real good for my self esteem that you're so desperate to get me hooked up because you're so convinced I can't get anywhere with women by myself! I found Peggy by myself, didn't I?"

Once Steve had deflated and run out of words Tony shook his head with a grin. "Feel better?"

Steve shrugged.

"Your friend really that pushy with the women?" Tony asked.

"Yeah," Steve sighed. "He means well."

"Sure," Tony nodded. "Wants to be the best wingman he can be, right?"

"Something like that," Steve said. He had a feeling it was his fault for all his low self-esteem fuelled angsting as a teen. He may have said a few times that he thought he'd never find anyone who wanted him. At the time it was true, his teens years weren't fun, but now? He wasn't in the healthiest place when it came to self-esteem, but he wasn't that bad. Dating Peggy had helped a lot in that regard, as had finding purpose in art school and his volunteering. He might never be at ease with the way he looked, but he liked himself now.

"So," Tony said when nothing more was forthcoming. "My turn."

"Go for it," Steve said.

Tony's face went through a serious of expressions that Steve might call calculating if he wasn't doing his best not to think so badly of Tony lately. Truce and all that. Finally Tony spoke. "Having PTSD is what happens when a person undergoes trauma. It is not always debilitating and it doesn't stop me from being the smartest person in any given room. It's been over two years now. Let it fucking drop. If I was a wounded war vet all anyone would be talking about is how brave I am for putting myself out there, how strong I must be to keep battling with it every day and still work my ass off running my own company. No one would ask if I should be sectioned or have my company taken away. So fuck you. Fuck your gaslighting bullshit and your obsolete ideas about mental health. Whatever nightmares I wake up from at least I'm not a deluded prick who can't see reality."

Tony broke off, looking unsure on whether or not to continue.

"Did they really say you should be sectioned?" Steve asked. He wasn't really sure who 'they' were, and maybe they had good reasons for wanting Tony to get help with his mental health, but it did seem a little harsh. For all that Tony could be an asshole he seemed relatively stable and he had a point with the war vet equivalency. 

"That and worse," Tony confirmed. "The issue is raised every single time I do something the board or the press or whothefuckever don't agree with. Apparently I'm a self-destructive narcissist with severe mental health issues."

"And are you?" Steve couldn't help but ask.

Tony's lips quirked up. "Maybe a little."

Steve laughed. "Good to know."

"It could be worse," Tony said, though he didn't explain how. "Hey, if you want I could give you the numbers of some supermodels. Maybe then your friend would stop hassling you over getting a date."

Another laugh, this one awkward. "Yeah, I don't think those supermodels would appreciate you giving me their numbers."

"Why not? It's not like I give their numbers to random strangers," Tony said. "They'd know I'd vouched for you."

"Tony, come on," Steve said. "I may be capable of getting a date myself, but I'm not exactly supermodel level. None of them would be interested."

Tony looked him over like he hadn't really considered that before. "I mean, you may not be on the cover of Men's Health anytime soon, but some girls dig skinny."

"And short? And broke? And asthmatic?" Steve shook his head. "It's not just muscles I'm lacking."

"You're not exactly part of the body positivity movement are you?" Tony said with an amused expression. "You know what they say: all bodies are beautiful."

"I'm sure that's true, but that doesn't make everyone attracted to all bodies," Steve argued. "Especially not supermodels."

Tony tilted his head. "They are people, you know. And like most people they have tastes, not some generic ideal that applies across the board. Sure, not everyone is attracted to all body types, but all body types are attractive to someone."

Steve sighed, already feeling done with the argument. "And yet I bet you're attracted to slender, fit, tall women with the kind of looks you see on magazine covers."

"Well, yeah," Tony admitted, somewhat baffled by Steve's approach. "But I'm also attracted to blond, skinny idiots with pretty faces and long fingers. I'm a man of many tastes."

"Oh." Steve almost rocked back with Tony's words. "Oh, I..."

Tony gave him a funny. look. "Are you okay? You look like you're having an aneurysm."

"You're attracted to me?" Steve asked doubtfully. It didn't seem likely. Maybe he misinterpreted Tony's words.

Tony's expression grew even more baffled. "Which of the numerous times I've hit on you or called you hot or pretty didn't clue you in?" 

Steve tried to think past the rush of blood to his face and the way he felt a little dizzy. Had Tony been hitting on him? "You were hitting on me?"

"For the love of- Yes!" Tony said. "Yes, I have been hitting on you, repeatedly and obviously. I thought that was clear."

"I didn't even know you liked guys," Steve said faintly, still trying to reconcile Tony's revelation with his preconceptions.

"Then you're pretty much the only person in the country," Tony said. "I've been out since I was nineteen."

"But all the supermodels..." 

"The word you're looking for is bisexual," Tony said. "Or, you know, if you want Pansexual probably applies. Hell, show me an alien and you can probably use Omnisexual like Doctor Who guy." He paused. "Also, just so you know, there are male supermodels. It's not a gendered term."

"You've dated male supermodels, but you're attracted to me?" Steve pressed. Because the more he thought about it the less likely it seemed, for all his previous dwelling on the idea.

"Dated is a strong term for it, but I think we've established that, yes."

His overwhelming doubt in Tony's honesty was completely to blame for Steve's next move. "Prove it."

"Prove it?" Tony asked. "How?"

"Go out with me," Steve said.

"I didn't think you'd..." Tony said, nearly proving Steve's doubts, before continuing. "I mean, sure. Don't look a gifthorse in the mouth, right? Where do you wanna go?"

"Doesn't matter," Steve said, already cursing himself for taking it this far but unable to back down as always.

"The club we met at last time? Tonight?" Tony asked. 

Steve nodded. "Sure."

"Okay then. It's a date."

Steve honestly couldn't say whether he was hoping Tony would follow through or stand him up.

 

 

"You're what?" Bucky asked, amused.

"Shut up," Steve said. "It's not a real date. He'll either not turn up or he'll make an excuse not to do it again. I'm proving a point."

Bucky looked him over. "What point? That the reason you lost that girl's number and didn't even try to talk to the next one is because you've got a crush on Tony Stark?"

Steve glared. "No. That Tony isn't attracted to me. He's just patronising me like everyone else."

Bucky snorted. "Good luck with that."

Steve ignored him and finished getting ready, once again in the clothes that Tony bought. He felt a little self conscious wearing them for a date with the guy who bought them, but he was going to pull out all the stops. Tony would have no excuse for rejecting him, he'd have to admit the truth.

The doorbell rang fifteen minutes later and Steve left to find Tony waiting outside with an expensive car. Tony gestured him into the back seat and followed him in. "This is Happy." He nodded towards the front and the driver smiled into the rearview mirror.

"Hi," Steve greeted.

It took very little time to get to the club, but it felt like hours with the awkward silence Steve couldn't find a way to break. Tony played on his phone the entire time and Steve began to feel both vindicated and pissed off.

They entered through the VIP gate and Steve became very aware that Bucky would likely be waking him up with another paper with his picture on it in the morning. Tony bought them both a drink and nodded to the dancefloor. "I'll get you out on there later, but how about we head to the VIP lounge for a bit first?"

Steve shrugged. "Sure. I can tell you now that me dancing is not going to happen."

Tony grinned at the challenge. "We'll see about that."

The VIP lounge was nowhere near as glamorous as Steve was expecting. Sure, it was relatively private and there were comfy sofas and mood lighting, but it didn't ooze wealth and privilege. It was just a comfy spot to escape from the crowds. Steve took a seat on one of the sofas and Tony followed, sitting close enough that he was pressed against Steve's side despite the abundance of available space.

"So, you come here often?" Tony asked.

Steve laughed. "I was expecting better pickup lines from New York's resident playboy."

"Like what? Did it hurt when you fell from heaven? Hey, I'm a director and I want to put your face on the silver screen? I'm shipping out on a dangerous mission tomorrow and this could be my last night alive?" Tony tried. 

"Yeah, I'm sure selling cell phones and renewable energy is a dangerous job," Steve said.

Tony's face did something funny before settling on a grin. "You'd be surprised." He shifted to face Steve a little more. "I'll admit, my pickup lines are a little rusty. I don't usually need 'em. We could just skip ahead to the making out."

"What, do you think I'm easy?" Steve teased, to cover the way his stomach had just dropped. His eyes strayed to Tony's mouth.

Tony's grin grew wider. "You, Rogers, are anything but easy."

They chatted for a while, Tony flirting on and off and Steve trying to ignore the fact Tony wasn't anywhere close to rejecting him so far. It was easy and fun, and Steve was getting a little drunk by the time he realised a couple of hours had passed along with more than a few drinks.

"You ready to dance yet?" Tony asked.

Steve pulled a face. The only person who had ever got him to dance was Peggy and it had been an absolute disaster. "I told you, that's not happening."

"Why not?" Tony asked. "It's fun. You like fun, right?"

"Me dancing is not a pretty sight," Steve told him. 

"Why don't you let me be the judge of that?" Tony pressed.

The thought of dancing out there where everyone could see was bad enough, the thought of doing it while with an actual celebrity whose presence would attract the attention of half the room to Steve's awkward flailing was unthinkable. "I prefer to avoid public humiliation where possible," he said with a wince.

Tony looked thoughtful for a moment then stood. "Then how about we dance in here. Just you and me."

"I..."

"C'mon, you know you wanna get all up on this," Tony said with a deliberately cringe worthy shimmy.

Steve laughed. He looked down at the remainder of his drink and thought 'what the hell'. He threw back the last of his drink and stood up to join Tony. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Steve prepared to commence his usual dancing, but Tony pulled him in close before he could begin. He could've warned Tony that wouldn't make it any better, Peggy had tried her best to get him to dance like a normal human being and there was no reason to believe Tony would succeed where she'd failed. It did feel different, though. Tony was firmly in control, his hands wrapped tight around Steve's hips, pressing them close and guiding Steve's movements. Steve looped his arms around Tony's neck and went with it. If he ended up breaking Tony's toes or something then he wouldn't feel at all guilty, he had warned Tony after all.

"See? Not so bad," Tony murmured, leaning in teasingly close. 

Steve didn't know if the strong urge he had to move away was stronger or weaker than the strong urge he had to move closer. Instead of doing either he just stayed frozen, caught up in the smirk on Tony's lips and the heat where their bodies were pressed close.

Tony looked him over. "Tell me if I'm getting carried away here," he said, then leaned in even further. 

The jump backwards was as much a surprise to Steve as it was to Tony.

"Okay, maybe I misread the moment," Tony said. "But that seemed like an overreaction. What's going on?"

"Nothing," Steve said. Then, because he was stubborn, not a complete imbecile, he launched himself back into Tony's space, though without the attempt at dancing this time. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting that. Try it again."

"Weren't expecting... Seriously, you had no radar whatsoever for when someone's putting the moves on you, do you?" Tony said. "No wonder your friend thinks his purpose in life is to be your overbearing wingman, he's probably worried about this exact situation happening. Maybe if he was there for all our interactions we'd have avoided a lot of awkwardness."

"Shuttup," Steve mumbled, feeling himself flush in annoyance and a little embarrassment. "I just... thought you were humouring me."

"Humouring you how?" 

"By saying you're attracted to me, by going on a date with me," Steve explained.

Tony pulled a face. "Don't you think that'd be a little bit over the top? Why the hell would I take it this far to humour you?"

"I don't know!" Steve snapped. "It seemed more likely than the alternative."

Tony froze. "Okay, there are two things we need to address here, because holy shit. Firstly that you have self-image issues like woah. You should really see someone about that, 'cause you're kinda acting like a crazy person. Which brings me to the other thing, which is that I'm beginning to think you only asked me out as some weird test of my sincerity and that you never actually wanted to go out with me."

There was no good answer Steve could give to that. Apparently no answer was still a bad answer.

"This what it's all about to you, isn't it? The anger issues and outbursts, the holier-than-thou attitude, the overcompensating with the military applications and the volunteering, and now this," Tony said. "It's all about you thinking the world sees you as this worthless little guy and you trying to prove them wrong. You don't get into fights because you're angry at people being assholes, you get into fights because you think it proves something. Why use your words when you can try to prove you're not a weakling by using your fists instead, am I right?"

Steve fumbled for a reply, because sure, what he did was a little messed up, but he'd been over this in sessions. He wasn't ashamed of being a little guy, he knew he had value. 

Tony scoffed. "Right. Well, tab's still open, help yourself. I'm outta here."

"Tony!"

"No. You know what? I don't have to deal with this. I've got my own shit going on, it's not my job to fix your issues," Tony snapped. 

 

 

Steve didn't have the guts to try to contact Tony in any way after that. He had a cellphone number Tony had given him when they agreed to go out, but calling it or even just texting seemed a far more challenging task than it should be. He had no idea what he'd even say. So group rolled around again, and it was like a truce had never been called. Worse, because now it wasn't just Tony but also Bruce and Virginia who kept fixing him with disappointed or hostile glares.

Fury clearly knew something was wrong by the way he kept narrowing his eye as he looked between them. "Is there some air that needs to be cleared here?"

Tony met Fury's gaze with an easy smile. "Nope," he said, popping the P. "Air has already been cleared. Go ahead. Let's get on with the deep breathing exercises."

Fury's gaze turned to Steve and he raised his eyebrows in question.

Steve forced a smile himself. 

"Okay then," Fury said at last. "But if shit goes down because you're lying assholes then I will inform the courts that you violated court orders."

"Noted," Tony said. 

When the session drew to a close Steve hovered, wondering if he should attempt to approach Tony. A pointed glare from Virginia stopped him. 

"Pepper?" Tony said, turning around to see where his companion had got to.

Virginia smiled sweetly at him. "I'll just be a moment."

Tony glanced between her and Steve. "I'll be by the car."

She nodded and he left, though she waited for the others to likewise exit the room before she turned her smile, now brittle and angry, towards Steve. "I don't want to hear whatever justification you've come up with for what you did. Whatever your reasoning was, it was a despicable thing to do. Tony doesn't need to hear your excuses either. Don't try to talk to him until you're prepared to give a proper apology."

"I'm sorry, it wasn't... I don't know how it got that far," Steve said.

Virginia's gaze turned coldly considering. "You might consider some introspection. What you did," she shook her head. "The only reasons I can think of are that you wanted to hurt Tony, which seems plausible but unlikely, or that you have some self-discovery to do before you're ready to face your true motivations. Either way, stay away from Tony until you can figure it out."

Steve nodded, though he wasn't really sure what she was saying. He knew he didn't do it to hurt Tony. Even when Tony's very existence grated on him he hadn't wanted to deliberately hurt the man. Well, not more than one solid punch to the face, and even that he wouldn't have carried through on. Probably.

"I don't mean to be harsh," Virginia continued after another moment of examining Steve. "While I don't condone your actions and I am deeply angry with you for hurting him, I understand that these things are not always intentionally hurtful. However, Tony has more on his plate than any one man should have to deal with, and I will not let you add to the pile. He's a good man, he doesn't deserve the fallout of whatever it is you're going through right now."

"Yes ma'am," Steve agreed.

Virginia rolled her eyes at the address and left.

"You look like you've just been scolded by the headteacher," Peggy said as Steve climbed into the car with her.

"I think I sorta was," Steve admitted. Between Virginia's attack and Fury's glares at both him and Tony throughout the session he may as well have been.

Peggy laughed. "What did you do this time?"

"I asked Stark out," Steve said.

Peggy shot him a quick glance. "And?"

"And I only did as sort of a test, to see if he actually liked me," Steve explained. "It was a dick move."

"Let me get this right," Peggy said after a few more darted glances. "You asked Tony Stark out on a date as some kind of elaborate game of Gay Chicken?"

Steve sighed.

"And he won, presumably?"

Steve shrugged. "I guess. He tried to kiss me."

"And you....?" Peggy pressed.

"I moved away," Steve said. "It was instinct! I tried to move back in but he'd caught on that something was off."

Peggy pursed her lips in a way Steve knew was a precursor to something she didn't think he wanted to hear. "You moved back in?"

Steve didn't say anything. It had seemed logical at the time... No, that was wrong. It had seemed... right? He'd wanted to move back in, to see if Tony would really kiss him.

"So you would have let him kiss you?" Peggy concluded. "You wanted him to."

"No, I just-"

"You wanted him to kiss you and you were, what? Confused? Scared?" 

"Surprised. I was surprised," Steve admitted at last. 

Peggy patted his knee comfortingly. "Did you tell him you wanted to kiss him?"

Steve shook his head. He hadn't admitted to himself that that was the case until just then, after all Peggy's pushing.

"Do you still want to kiss him?" Peggy asked.

"I don't know."

Peggy looked unconvinced but held her peace. Apparently she'd forced enough confession from him for one day.

 

 

When Steve finally brought himself to explain what had happened to Bucky the only reaction he got was Bucky's shaken head and a quiet 'jesus'.

"You aren't going to tell me 'I told you so'?" 

Bucky looked him over and turned back to the fridge to pull out the rest of the ingredients he needed. "It looks like you already did the job for me a few times over."

Steve sighed. "Yeah."

"So," Bucky said, dropping a tomato onto the cutting board in front of him. "What's your move now, lover boy?"

"My move? My move is to pretend it never happened and try to ignore that he hates me now," Steve said.

"Seriously. How are you going to get your man back?" Bucky said.

Steve shook his head. "I can't get him back, Buck. I told you, he hates me."

"Well, yeah. You were a dick. But he hated you before, right? You won him over once before," Bucky pointed out. "So do it again."

Steve rolled his eyes. "How?"

"Hell if I know, I've only met the guy once," Bucky said. "I guess I do have more dating experience than you though."

Steve laughed. "I guess that's one upside of this whole thing. If by some miracle Tony forgives me and agrees to go out with me then there'll be at least one area of dating I'm more experienced than you in."

Bucky raised his eyebrows. "I wouldn't bet on that."

"Aww, c'mon. Seriously? How did I not know about this before?" Steve complained. "You're usurping my coming out."

"Is that what this is?" Bucky asked. "I thought this was you whining that your crush is mad at you. Besides, I'm not coming out, I'm just more open minded than you."

"Asshole," Steve said.

Bucky stuck his tongue out. "See if I help you with your boy troubles now."

 

 

Bucky did of course help him with his boy troubles. His lifelong quest to get Steve in a relationship or at the very least laid was not at all affected by new revelations regarding who Steve might be willing to get into a relationship or get laid with apart from that his efforts now had a focus.

Prepped with a full speech explaining his behaviour and his recent epiphany as well as a full apology complete with 'how can I make it up to you', Steve strode into the next anger management session with a sense of purpose. Until the session began and Tony remained absent.

When they'd finished, Steve made his way over to Virginia and plucked up the courage to ask, "Where's Tony?"

Virginia folded her arms. "Why do you want to know?"

"I have an apology to make. And an explanation, not that it excuses what I did," Steve said. 

She sighed. "He got court permission to skip this session so he could go to Europe for an important business meeting."

"But he'll be back next week, right?" Steve asked, even as Bucky's voice in his head asked if he was really going to give up at the first hurdle. He badly wanted to tell the voice that this was real life and not one of the romcoms Steve wasn't allowed to tell people Bucky watched, he couldn't exactly run through an airport declaring his feelings, but in the end he conceded the point. "Has he left already? Is there any way I can contact him?"

Virginia's eyes narrowed. "I want to hear your apology."

Steve froze. "What?"

"Before I let you interrupt the trip I had to work my ass off to get him on in order to get over you, I want to hear your apology," she said. "I want to make sure it's an actual apology and I want to hear the sincerity in it."

Steve thought about it. The Bucky voice piped up again. "Fine. Here goes." He took a breath and ordered his speech in his head. "I came to apologise for what I did. I hurt you, and there's no excuse for my behaviour. I would like to make it up to you and offer an explanation if you're willing?"

Virginia tilted her head. "Not bad. Fine. Go ahead with your explanation."

A grimace surfaced at her demand no matter how hard he fought to remain neutral and earnest. "As you know, I don't have the best self image and I overreact when I think people are treating me differently because of my size. That was the conscious reason for my actions, however there was another reason I have only recently discovered myself. I like you. When I asked you out, I think I was actually asking you out, even if I didn't know it. My reaction at the club was more to my own feelings and actions than to yours."

"Nicely done," Virginia said. "How long did it take to script that out?"

Steve's grimace returned.

"Don't worry," she told him. "I consider it to be a bonus. You've obviously thought this through."

"Thanks, I guess," Steve said.

"Still," Virginia said with a significant eyebrow raise. "What is it you're hoping to get out of this?"

"Forgiveness."

"And?"

"If Tony will let me, I'd like to take him out again. Properly this time," Steve confessed.

Virginia made a noise like he'd confirmed her expectation. "And if he doesn't want anything to do with you?"

Steve fought back a sigh of annoyance. "Then I'll respect his decision."

Virginia nodded. "He'll be back tomorrow. I'm supposed to collect him from the airport." She paused. "You can come along. But if Tony wants you gone, you leave. Understood?"

"Understood," Steve agreed gratefully. He couldn't say he appreciated the interrogation or the invasion of privacy, but it was worth it. Looked like he was going to get a dramatic airport scene after all. Bucky would be thrilled.

 

 

"I'm coming with you," Bucky said when Steve updated him on the situation.

"What? No. There's no way Virginia will agree to that," Steve argued.

Bucky pulled an offended expression. "I'm your best friend, your wingman. I helped you write and practise your apology speech."

"And I appreciate it," Steve said. "But you're not coming to the airport."

In the end, both Bucky and Peggy came to the airport. They took a cab instead of Peggy's car to avoid the airport parking charges, but they insisted he wasn't getting in the cab without them, and Peggy offered to pay the fare.

"They won't let you guys in, you know," Steve told them.

"We'll see," Peggy said calmly. No one stopped Peggy when she was set on something, a fact Steve should have learned by this point. For all that Steve was the trouble maker of the group, he suspected that his role would soon have been usurped had Peggy been caught in most of her misadventures. 

"Whatever," Steve sulked. He didn't need backup for this. He wasn't that romantically hopeless, no matter what his friend circle seemed to believe. Tony had liked him before without any help from them after all.

Virginia met him outside the building, or he would genuinely have had no idea where he was going. Apparently Tony didn't do aeroplanes with other people and had come in on a private jet. 

"Steve," she said, looked Bucky and Peggy over with a sceptical but unsurprised expression and turned to walk away without another word.

Steve scrambled to catch up, his friends trailing behind him a little way. "Has he landed?"

"Not yet," Virginia said over her shoulder without turning to look. She led them through to an area where they were briefly checked over by some form of security Steve wasn't entirely sure was TSA and then on to a private lounge area. "You can wait here. I'll bring Tony through once he's landed."

Steve wanted to argue for going and meeting him directly off the plane, but her expression stopped him. She might have a point. With three of them there waiting for him the second he stepped off the plane back from a trip he went on specifically to get away from Steve it might seem like an ambush.

The waiting was hellish. The lounge was comfortable enough, with deep sofas, large windows and a TV playing the latest news segment fixed to the wall. A woman who wore a uniform that looked several times more expensive and professional than Steve's best suit but also like she might step into a nightclub at any second kept bringing them refreshments and a digital clock on the wall kept them informed of the local time in at least six different places, making the whole thing seem more like they were the ones on a private jet waiting to land. It was over an hour before Virginia returned, Tony a little way behind her, eyes covered with obnoxiously large and expensive sunglasses and attention on the cell phone in his hands.

Steve stood up to greet him and Tony finally looked up from his phone. 

"Hi," Steve managed through his suddenly dry mouth. It would be a lie to say he hadn't pictured having to give his apology in front of an audience, his exposure to an inordinate number of romcoms meant he'd pictured everything from the dramatic airport scene to the heartfelt confession in the middle of a rainstorm, but picturing is a lot different than doing.

"Steve," Tony greeted neutrally, then looked around at Bucky and Peggy, "and Steve's friends."

Neither Steve's own friends nor Virginia and the confusingly dressed server seemed inclined to give them a moment or offer any kind of assistance.

"How was your trip?" Steve asked, and pretended he couldn't see Bucky facepalming in his peripheral vision.

Tony shrugged. "Same old. Lots of money, lots of meetings, lots of pretty people, not a lot of sleep."

Steve forcibly pushed down the implications of 'pretty people' and lack of sleep. What Tony did was Tony's business, and it didn't change anything. "Sounds like you had a good time."

Tony didn't answer but somehow avoided being standoffish about it. Waiting for Steve to get to the point.

"I owe you an apology," Steve said at last. "And an explanation if you'll accept one."

"Go ahead," Tony said. No doubt Virginia had told him already what Steve was here for.

Steve took a breath. He glanced at his friends, both in a display of nerves and to try to gain some reassurance. Peggy smiled at him, while Bucky gave the least subtle thumbs up Steve had ever born witness to. Much as it made him want to slap Bucky around the back of the head, it also brought a smile to his lips and calmed him somewhat. If this all went to hell, at least his friends were here to either get him hideously drunk or force him to into a movie night complete with ice cream and things exploding. Peggy had a comparable level of taste to Bucky in the film department, but while Bucky veered towards romcoms and movies where people got lost on stag and hen nights, Peggy went in hard for implausible explosions, overly elaborate fight scenes and people getting shot.

He turned back to Tony. "I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean to, but I did. I should have thought harder about what I was doing and why, and I shouldn't have treated you like that. It's all on me and I really am sorry."

Tony nodded and moved like the conversation was over and he had somewhere else to be.

"Is there anything I can do to make it right?" Steve asked, taking an involuntary step forwards as if to stop Tony.

Tony shot him a considering look then dug his phone out of his pocket, going back to typing away at it instead of looking at Steve. "We're good. You can go get on with your life guilt free. See you around. Or not."

Virginia rolled her eyes, but she was suppressing a fond smile. "Happy won't be here with the car for another fifteen minutes," she said casually, as if it was only an update.

From the way Tony froze and narrowed his eyes at her over his sunglasses, Steve guessed there was more to it than that.

"I'd really like-" Steve broke off, needing to do his best to win Tony over before he lost his chance, but not sure if he should given the resigned look on Tony's face that even the glasses couldn't quite cover. "I'm sorry for what I did, and there's no excuse-"

"Yeah, you covered that already," Tony interrupted. "You're good."

"But there is a reason," Steve pushed on. "A stupid reason and one I should have figured out long before I did, but one I'm hoping you can understand."

Tony sighed and removed his shades so he could rub at the bridge of his nose. "Look, I don't want to sound like an asshole, but I really don't care. I've got better shit to worry about than a guy not liking me back and-"

"But I do like you back," Steve cut him off. "That's the thing. I didn't realise it before. Didn't let myself I guess. I was too busy worrying about why someone like you would even be speaking to me, but I realise it now. And that's why I'm here. Other than the apology."

"Right," Tony said, sounding like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I wanted to ask if you'd give me the chance to prove it," Steve said with a rueful grin. "I know you've got no real reason to believe me-"

"Other than the whole airport ambush, you mean," Tony said.

Steve winced. "Sorry about that. Virginia said it'd be okay."

Tony nodded like this didn't surprise him at all. "And Pep and I will be having words about letting her love of romance movies interfere with her job."

Virginia rolled her eyes again.

"I just didn't want to leave it until the next group therapy session, if you even turned up, and have to go through another hour of awkwardness before I even had a chance to speak to you," Steve continued. 

"Fair," Tony conceded. "So what exactly are you asking for here?"

Steve breathed out in relief at the implied acceptance. "Well, I hadn't really got all that far. I thought maybe we could try another date. Not at a club though. You could come to my place, I could cook you dinner or something."

Bucky shook his head frantically, advancing on to negating hand gestures until Tony caught sight of him and laughed.

"I'm not that bad," Steve reassured him. "Bucky just likes to exaggerate. I make a mean chilli."

"Mean is the right word. It's like it tries to attack you in Steve's place," Bucky said.

"Bucky doesn't like spicy food," Steve explained.

"Right," Tony said, smiling now. "Or you could order in. I'm two bad days away from a stress ulcer as it is, I think maybe I should avoid foods that can burn a hole through my stomach lining."

"Is that a yes?" Steve asked hopefully.

Tony considered a moment longer. "Come with me."

Steve did as he was asked and ignored the disappointed looks their audience gave them.

The corridor outside the lounge was empty and Tony stopped a short distance away from the door. 

"Is something wrong?" Steve asked.

"That depends," Tony said. He looked Steve in the eye, "If we're going to do this I need to know that you actually want to, and that it's not just some weird poor self-esteem fuelled fantasy."

Steve resisted the urge to argue. There was no way Tony would believe him if he tried to say his self-esteem wasn't that bad. "Sure."

Tony raised one eyebrow and stared Steve down.

"I do want this, I-" Steve cut himself off as Tony's pointed look zeroed in on his mouth. "Oh." Right. Well, it was how he'd tried to determine if Tony was really interested.

Tony made no move to come closer, leaving it all up to Steve.

It took a brief moment of psyching himself up, not because he didn't want to but because it turned out once he actually knew he was attracted to him, Tony had the same effect on him as an attractive woman. Tony's face remained calm and observant as Steve took a breath and clenched and unclenched his hands. He didn't attempt to offer any reassurance or doubts, just stood there. Waiting.

At last Steve managed to make his feet carry him across the short distance between them, and after barely a moments further hesitation he leaned up to press his lips to Tony's. It was a dry, soft kiss that, while pleasant, didn't really prove anything, so Steve leaned in further, pressing harder and catching Tony's top lip between his own. He glanced up into Tony's eyes before allowing his own to drift closed, enjoying the sensation and the way his heart was beginning to race even harder than it had in the nervous moments leading up to the kiss. He let his hands drift up to frame Tony's face, pulling him in deeper and stepping in even closer.

Tony was getting with the program now, arms wrapping around Steve's body and pressing them up close against each other. His tongue joined the party and Steve opened for it, not caring that everything was getting a bit too heated for an airport corridor. He had a point to prove and he was damn well going to prove it, and enjoy himself while he did.

Tony broke away first, though Steve was bordering on an asthma attack from the way his breath was starting to rasp from the exertion.

"Damn," Tony muttered, staring at Steve and not releasing him from where he was held against Tony's body.

Steve licked his lips.

"So," Tony said at last. "Think you can get rid of your roommate tonight?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As requested a scene from the date

Steve hesitated just past the door to the apartment. It wasn't that he was ashamed of his place, or even that he thought Tony would care how big it was or what the furniture was like. It was more that the apartment was...personal. Bucky didn't even bring conquests back there. But Steve was fast beginning to realise any rules he lived by before had no place in a relationship with Tony. He stepped in and turned on the lights. 

Tony brushed by without any indication that he'd noticed Steve's pause. "So, just so I know, what are the parameters of this? What level of groping is permitted here?"

Steve let out an awkward laugh. It seemed a little silly to get coy after their furious make out session at the airport, but he wasn't really sure what he'd be comfortable with. He hadn't got a whole lot of experience. One high school girlfriend that barely went beyond handholding, Peggy, and Peggy's cousin Sharon who had always been a little too fast to get physical for his preference. Not one of them was a man, and definitely not a man like Tony. 

"How about we just order some food, watch a movie or something and you let me know if I get too handsy," Tony suggested.

"Sure," Steve nodded a little too enthusiastically. Leaving the ball in Tony's court was the easy way out, and for once Steve was going to take it. 

Or at least he thought he was. Two hours later as they watched the end credits to a film Steve couldn't even remember the name of, let alone the plot, he was about ready to snap. Tony had barely touched him from the moment they walked in the door. Just the occasional hand on his arm, a slight nudge with his shoulder when he thought something on screen was particularly funny.

The food had arrived promptly and they'd demolished it before they were two thirds of the way through the movie, and so now there was nothing to distract Steve from how far apart they were on the couch. It wasn't a gaping chasm, no dramatic amount of space, but it was at the level Steve might expect from a friend, not a date. As nervous as he'd been when they first sat down, by now he was just frustrated. He may not have experience with guys, or much experience at all, and he may have only admitted to liking Tony or any man very recently, but he wasn't one to shy away from what he wanted. And what he wanted was Tony.

"Tony," he said as the final few titles rolled across the screen.

"Hmm?"

"This is a date, right?"

Tony turned to him with a puzzled frown. "Um, yeah. I thought that was pretty clear. But, you know, you're the one who asked me out, so..."

"Yeah. I just wanted to...check," Steve said.

"Is something wrong?" Tony asked. "Because you're acting... if there's something wrong we can... I mean, it's just a first date, no pressure, you know?"

Steve considered his options. "When you said we'd see how it went with the whole 'level of acceptable groping' thing, I thought that'd mean there was, you know, groping."

"Do you want there to be groping?"

"I don't not want there to be groping," Steve said awkwardly. 

"Why, Steve Grant Rogers, are you trying to get into my pants on our first date?" Tony held his hand over his heart as if affronted. 

Steve just shrugged. "Technically it's a second date. And while I'm..." he fought hard against the blush that threatened to erupt as he continued, determined not to make a big deal of this, "definitely interested in getting in your pants, for right now I was more talking about stuff like back at the airport."

Tony grinned. "You'll forgive me if I've been a little hesitant to make a move after the last time I tried it."

Steve winced. "Sorry about that. Again."

Tony waved him off. "Just a little gay panic. We're fine. So... what exactly did you want to happen here?"

And just like that the ball was back in Steve's court. He coughed a little and ignored the fact he'd completely lost his battle against blushing. "Could we, I dunno, make out for a while?"

"Like a couple of randy teenagers? I like it," Tony said, grin growing wider and eyes flicking over Steve's face with apparent glee at Steve's embarrassment.

"Great," Steve said and had no idea what to do next. They'd agreed to make out, but now what? How did they... How did he... Was there a way to make this feel more natural and less painfully awkward? 

Tony didn't seem to be feeling any awkwardness, just delighting in Steve's. He sat calmly watching while Steve fumbled for a way to get from saying to doing, and displayed no inclination to help him out.

"Okay," Steve muttered, and psyched himself up. He moved in closer to Tony, leaning into his space at an angle that only made it feel more unnatural and forced. Then he decided to hell with it and flung his leg over Tony's, shifting into his lap. He took a moment to enjoy the slight look of surprise on Tony's face before kissing him. 

It was every bit as good as the airport. 

Somehow whatever nervousness Steve had surrounding the situation or his inexperience with men got shoved to the back of his mind at the taste of Tony's mouth, still sweet from the cola they'd had with dinner. The feeling of Tony's arms wrapping strong around him didn't make him feel small or overpowered, but wanted, like Tony wanted him so much he needed to press them together tight enough that nothing could take Steve away.

"Just... so I know...," Tony said in between the pulling apart and meeting of their lips, "this isn't... just... a sex thing... right? I mean... it's fine if it is... but it doesn't.... feel like... just a sex thing."

Steve meant to answer promptly but got distracted by just how hot it was that Tony couldn't even shut up when they were making out, something Steve never anticipated finding attractive. Was it weird to find that attractive? He didn't really care.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?" Steve responded, mostly because it seemed likely that would keep Tony talking in that increasingly breathless voice.

Tony pulled away altogether, which was pretty much the opposite of what Steve had intended. "Steve."

Steve cleared the haze of lust from his mind as much as he was able and thought back to Tony's question. "Not just a sex thing."

"Cool," Tony said, sounding like he was trying to be casual. "That's... cool."

"Why would it be just a sex thing?" Steve asked, put on alert by Tony's overly convincing casualness. "I did a whole airport movie moment thing. I know guys like me have to put in a little extra work, but don't you think that'd be taking it a little far for just a sex thing?"

"I dunno, I mean I am crazy hot," Tony joked. "I wouldn't blame you for pulling out all the stops to land this."

Steve resisted rolling his eyes and was glad he did, because in that split second he saw Tony's eyes dart away in an uncharacteristic display of uncertainty. "Tony, I like you. A lot. I thought I made that obvious."

"Well sure," Tony said and leaned back in. "Glad we got that all cleared up."

"I thought I was supposed to be the insecure one in this relationship," Steve risked joking.

Tony scoffed. "I'm not insecure, I just wanted some clarification on what exactly it is that we're doing here. Besides, it's not like I have a whole lot of evidence to back up the idea of you liking me for more than my hot bod."

"Please never use the phrase 'hot bod' again," Steve said. "And again. Airport. Big romantic scene, remember?"

"Yeah, after weeks of making it clear you thought I was an arrogant, self centred jerk," Tony replied.

Steve smiled and met Tony's eyes so he knew the next words weren't serious. "Oh, I still think you're an arrogant, self centred jerk."

"Thanks."

"You're also insanely thoughtful and generous, and I don't just mean with your money, occasionally funny, and yes, you do have a the hottest bod," Steve said.

"Occasionally funny? Occasionally?" Tony sputtered. "I'm hilarious!"

"Sure," Steve said blandly.

Tony huffed, covering a laugh. "Can we go back to the part where we were making out and you weren't insulting me?"

"Absolutely."

"I'm... totally gonna... tell Thor... how mean you are... and he'll... give you that... disappointed face... you know... the one," Tony got out around kisses.

Steve grinned and kissed him harder.


End file.
